Chapter 417: The Betrayer
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 417: The Betrayer
"So, is that the thing you spent so much effort planning to create?"
In the Supreme Place, the Pope’s gaze pierced through Cantville. The moment Muen revealed the black flames, the Pope caught a glimpse of that eerie fire before hastily cutting the broadcast just as the scene was about to become indecent.
His expression was strained. Suppressing the urge to hunt down that blonde brat and break all three of his legs for ravaging his "precious cabbage," he turned and asked:
"Are you certain that thing—which looks more like an Evil God than an actual Evil God—won't cause any lasting trouble?"
Though it was only a fleeting glance, the Pope had clearly felt the eeriness contained within those flames. Beneath a cloak of holiness lay an interior as pitch-black as the abyss. Horrific whispers and the murmurs of sin still echoed within the fire, as if they could drag a person's soul inside, devouring it entirely until nothing remained but embers.
"Well, I did run a lot of simulations, but I can't help but feel..."
Mela stroked her chin, her baby-faced features turning serious. She spent a long moment mumbling to herself while counting on her fingers before grumbling, "This isn't just worlds apart from my calculations; it’s practically unrelated. Something feels off."
The Pope was nearly dumbfounded. He snapped, "In other words, your deductions were wrong, and that thing has completely spiraled out of your control?"
"No? Not exactly. After all, the most important part—completely severing the connection with the Evil God—was achieved perfectly."
Mela shook her head. "Besides, didn't you say it yourself? No one could predict what it would eventually become. It was formed by the fusion of powers from several Evil Gods, so a few surprises are normal. What matters isn't the ability itself, but the boy. No matter how eerie the tool is, it’s just a weapon in his hand. Ultimately, it depends on how he uses it."
"You trust your disciple that much?"
"What do you think?"
Mela didn't answer directly. Instead, she turned her head and looked at the Pope with a half-smile, curious about his perspective.
The Pope fell silent for a moment, then let out a long sigh.
If this had been before, he would have been extremely wary of a once-notorious playboy wielding such an unknown and terrifying power. Many disasters originated from greedy individuals seeking power they couldn't control, only to be consumed by it in the end.
But... after the series of events in Cantville—such as maintaining his resolve even after the Love God blocked his "cheats," or unhesitatingly separating and burning his own powerful Divine Blessing...
Even the Pope had to admit that while he still desperately wanted to break all three of the boy's legs, Muen Campbell indeed possessed the strength of character to control his own power.
He was just a bit lecherous.
And a total scumbag.
Thinking of this, the Pope couldn't help but rub his temples. Wasn't this Holy Ceremony supposed to be for selecting a Saintess? Why did it feel like it had become a specialized trial for that brat?
"It seems you understand now."
The corners of Mela’s mouth curled slightly. Unlike the Pope, who had to maintain his dignity and decorum, she lowered her head and peered through Cantville, watching the intense, flesh-on-flesh battle with great interest.
"He didn't get to where he is today because of me, nor because of those external objects. It was his own effort."
"He doesn't need anyone to gift him anything; everything he has is earned. These seemingly incredible powers are merely tools he found while forging his own path."
"Power didn't make him; he made the power."
"..."
The Pope remained silent. He didn't know how many times today he had been surprised by Mela’s words.
"I’ve never heard you praise someone like that. Do you like him that much?"
"This isn't praise. I’m simply satisfied with my own choice. If anything, I’m complimenting myself."
Mela crossed her arms with a smug expression, her amber-red eyes glancing sideways at the Pope. "And what do you mean I’ve never praised anyone? I used to praise you quite highly."
"Praise me?"
The Pope, who had only ever experienced this old loli’s talent for causing trouble, frowned. He carefully recalled the few times she had awakened in the past and said uncertainly, "How come I didn't know about this?"
"Of course you didn't. You were only this big back then. I saw you in the arms of the previous... or maybe the one before the previous Pope. I knew at a glance that this child would definitely achieve great things in the future!"
Mela reminisced, sighing with emotion. "After all, being able to wet your pants in the Pope's arms in front of so many people is not something an ordinary person could do."
"..."
The Pope’s aged face twitched.
He, who could remain unfazed even when an Evil God descended, now truly wanted to go down in flames with this old bastard.
But on second thought, for the sake of humanity, he endured.
"Let’s not speak of such things for now."
The Pope swept his sleeve, regaining his majesty. "Enough small talk. Your projection can stay and watch if it wants, but don't delay me from my official business."
"What official business?"
The Pope glanced toward Cantville. "Is there a need for me to tell you?"
As he spoke, an elegant and holy figure drifted over, nodding slightly to the Pope.
"Your Majesty."
"Latina."
The Pope nodded in return.
The Saintess then politely looked at Mela and gave a serious bow. "You must be Grand Magister Mela Domir. This is our first meeting. It is an honor."
"Hello there, little girl of the current generation... Hmm?"
Mela gave the Saintess a casual sweep of her gaze, her slender, ink-like brows suddenly arching. Her tone became meaningful. "With your body in this state, shouldn't you be thinking about having a good meal instead of forcing yourself to keep going?"
"Thank you for your concern, Grand Magister. But I know my own body. I haven't flickered out like a spent lamp to the point where I can't even finish a small task like this. On the contrary, I just indulged myself a little, and now my mind and body are quite at ease."
The Saintess’s smile was soft and beautiful; she looked remarkably relaxed.
"By His Majesty's grace, I should be able to live for a few more years."
"Is that so..."
Mela didn't pry further into the Church's private affairs. She simply watched in silence as the Saintess and the Pope conversed for a long time, discussing various matters.
Once their discussion concluded, they summoned several Bishops and clergy members to quickly assign tasks. Some of the clergy looked excited, while others appeared somber, stealing lingering, reluctant glances at the current Saintess.
"I see. So this is the 'official business.' No wonder you had to stall for so long; it’s because it can't be done yet."
Mela, ever the spectator, stroked her chin with a mischievous grin. She wasn't ready to leave yet, wanting to play the bystander for a while longer.
But before she could continue watching, her brows twitched again.
Because the Pope, who was just about to head off to handle his "official business," suddenly underwent a drastic change in expression.
His sharp gaze fixed on a certain point as if he were listening to something. In that instant, the intensity of his emotional shift far exceeded even the moment when the Evil God’s true body had personally intervened.
Back then, he knew the Evil God’s actions couldn't possibly succeed.
But now... something extremely disastrous had already happened.
"Your Majesty?" the Saintess asked. "What has happened?"
"...The Captain of the Holy Sword Knights, Kans Rhode, has defected," the Pope sighed.
"Defected?"
Mela stroked her chin. "The Holy Sword... if I recall, that’s one of the four Great Knight Orders guarding the Emiel Cathedral. A Knight Captain—well, that’s a high-ranking position in the Church."
Mela then looked somewhat puzzled. "But even if he defected, it shouldn't make you lose your composure like this. Did he run off with a list of your old flames to blackmail you?"
"Heh, I wish he had taken a list of so-called old flames. At least then, everything could still be salvaged."
The Pope’s face was incredibly grim. He looked Mela in the eye and said, word by word:
"Unfortunately, I have no old flames, and that isn't what he took. He took..."
As the Pope’s lips moved, those few words drifted into Mela’s ears. Mela, who had been looking for a laugh, saw her expression instantly transform into one of shock.
*
Half an hour ago.
Emiel Cathedral, bottom core area, Second Forbidden Zone.
Kans led a small squad of knights through layers of restrictions, arriving before the guards protecting the main gate.
"Holy Sword Knight Order, acting on the orders of the Archbishop, here for the rotation."
His face was solemn, and fresh blood still stained his armor. Standing there, he exuded a heart-stopping aura of authority.
But the guard knights didn't even blink. They spoke in cold, mechanical voices:
"The order."
"Here is the order."
Kans handed a metallic token to the guard. The guard knight inspected it carefully, confirming the order indeed came from Archbishop Locust. After verifying that the identity and code of the person before him were correct, he finally nodded.
"The order is valid. Proceed with the rotation."
Several cold-looking knights emerged from the shadows. The knights behind Kans were equally well-trained, quickly taking over the posts.
The original guards left in silence. According to the order, they were to report for duty under the command of Archbishop Locust.
Once the rotation was complete, Kans did a careful sweep of the perimeter before telling his subordinates:
"I’m going inside to check."
"Yes, sir," the subordinate replied, his voice as hollow as a dead man's.
And so, without anyone finding it strange or raising a question, Kans easily walked through the gate.
But he only made it through the gate.
Behind the gate, Kans stopped. Two distinct boundaries clearly separated the inside from the outside.
In truth, the guard knights were merely the first and most basic line of defense. What truly mattered were the second and third.
The Great Barrier.
The Sanctuary.
Two creations representing the highest achievements of the Church stood loyally on guard. With these two present, no one in the world could hope to break through by force.
Even entering required the Church's highest level of clearance. His status as a Knight Captain was naturally insufficient; reaching this point was his limit.
This was one of the highest security areas in the entire Church.
But...
Kans closed his eyes, hesitating for a moment.
He knew that once he took another step, there would be no turning back.
Should he continue, or turn back?
Don't you want to... truly possess her?
A seductive voice echoed in the depths of his heart.
That moving girl, that holy girl, that high-and-mighty girl, that girl in the spotlight, that girl who looks down on you...
Don't you want her to belong to you alone? To make her kneel before you, to have her at your beck and call, to make her entirely your... property?
The holy and elegant figure surfaced in his mind. For some reason, he also thought of a certain ridiculous pink bear. Kans snapped his eyes open.
"I do!"
His eyes were bloodshot. His usual solemn majesty was gone, replaced by a sort of fanaticism. His voice didn't even sound like his own—it was raw and hoarse.
He no longer hesitated. He took a step forward, passing through the Great Barrier.
A pure white light enveloped him. Ethereal holy hymns began to play, and falling sacred feathers drifted down like the wings of a goddess showing mercy.
The Great Barrier showed no reaction, save for a mechanical voice echoing through the cold space:
"Good evening, Saintess Berena."
Kans did not respond. He continued forward, stepping into the final Sanctuary.
The Sanctuary rippled slightly, as if recognizing his clearance, allowing him to pass through smoothly.
Finally, having successfully bypassed the strongest defenses in the world, Kans stood before a precision instrument. Looking at the indescribable existence soaking in the solution, half of his face suddenly split open, revealing a single eye filled with a grotesque, mocking grin.
【Long time no see. Finally... I have you.】